Paper Houses
by Nanaho-Hime
Summary: It's been two years since the girls have parted ways. They haven't spoken to each other since. The Rowdyruff Boys seem to be mimicking. Involves the search for family, and the journey in between. "Because these paper houses always tend to rip"-PPG/RRB-
1. Chapter 1

Paper Houses

By Nanaho-Hime

Prologue: Drifting in the City or Of All the Broken Octobers

Disclaimer: I do not own

* * *

Blossom Utonium sighed as she was shoved aside for the umpteenth time that day. She'd been living in the city for a year or two now, but the rudeness some people were capable of did not get any easier to deal with. She could have very effortlessly dealt the perpetrator with a jaw shattering punch or she could have very easily flown over the throngs of city dwellers but the whole reason she had moved to a new city was to gain the anonymity she so desperately craved.

She shivered and pulled her pink trench coat closer around her thin frame. October in the city was rainy and smoggy and unpleasant and she occasionally longed for a respite in the countryside. Brightly colored leaves, and crisp air was a foreign concept in the industrial wasteland she called a temporary home and drab gray seemed to be the only color the city knew.

It was days like this that she felt her solitude most strongly. Everything had taken on a gray tone since the girls had separated and opted for pursuing their dreams and developing their personalities as individuals. Two years ago it had seemed a good idea. Angry, biting words still stung in the recesses of her memories, but the growing hole in her heart stung worse still. They'd left each other on a bitter note and keeping in touch hadn't been their top priority. Blossom, being the most psychologically astute, could understand why it would be so difficult to contact her sisters now. Even if she knew where they were, she was nowhere near ready to settle back into the relationship they had once had. They'd gone off to university, but after graduation there had been no phone calls and their whereabouts were still a mystery to her.

If Blossom was to be honest with herself she would have liked to find them. She was hollow without them and she knew this. None of her successes, none of her awards, not of her vast array of research made up for the fact that she had no one to go dress shopping with, no one to argue with. No one came to work out at the gym with her, she ate dinner alone. It was an empty existence and though the friends she had acquired over the last two years were wonderful, they just weren't her sisters.

They weren't Bubbles and Buttercup.

It was on that particular dreary though that the tentative drizzle turned into an ostentatious downpour. Blossom groaned and rushed into the nearest café. Flying home would have been practical had she not wanted to keep her powers on the down low. She did not want the mayor of this town to seek her services. She'd stopped crime fighting a long time ago, choosing to focus on her medical research. The institution she was currently occupied with kept her busy enough. It ensured that she had no time to miss kicking ass (though she did miss it on occasion).

Inside the nearly empty coffee shop she was struck with an even greater feeling of loneliness. It was empty save for a ragged man in the corner, sipping coffee from a small Styrofoam cup and it was downright depressing. Where the hell was the friggin sun?

"Can I help you miss?"

Blossom ordered green tea, and ignored the odd stare the young girl at the cashier offered her. People who entered coffee shops and ordered the green tea were often seen as a little odd. The man in the corner of the shop was staring at her intently and Blossom stifled a groan. The last thing she needed at the moment was a stalker. If he followed her home she'd be forced to beat him into submission, and that would lead to certain complications.

She thanked the girl for the green tea and sat by a window, avoiding the man's gaze and praying that she wouldn't be forced into any awkward situations.

"Blossom Utonium?"

She nearly dropped her green tea into her lap, before spinning around. She'd been so careful to conceal her identity. Her coworkers at the institute were convinced that her name was May Lucas, and that she was single and alone because she was too engrossed in her work.

"How do you know my name?" she hissed through clenched teeth, more angry than concerned that a complete stranger knew her name.

The man smirked and she immediately knew who it was. She couldn't believe that she hadn't recognized his smug visage the minute she had entered the café.

"Brick?" she screeched, startling the poor girl at the register.

"Aww, Pink, you remember I'm so touched." He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and blew out a puff of smoke.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, striding over to his table and speaking in hushed, frenzied tones.

Brick of the Rowdyruff Boys, if she'd been clubbed in the head everyday for the last year she couldn't possibly forget one of the most loathsome villains she'd ever come across. It wasn't as though he was the most evil (heaven's no, Him held the position securely), and he wasn't the most intelligent (Mojo bested him only slightly), but he was certainly the most arrogant, conceited, _insufferable_ villain she had ever come across in her entire life. This may have been due to the fact that he had attended high school with her, and they may have competed for valedictorian only to have him simply _give up_ their senior year.

"Causing chaos, wreaking havoc, busting skulls, the usual." His smirk dripped secrets and she knew he wasn't telling her all that he was doing. He couldn't possibly be surviving off the meager income that came with petty, small crimes, and if he had been doing anything particularly large scale she would have heard of it by now.

Besides, his loosened tie and dress pants didn't particular scream "victim of society" or "delinquent". In fact, had she not known it was Brick, she would have easily mistaken him for a CEO at a high end company.

"I'm guessing your life of crime is still going strong." Blossom rolled her eyes, and sat across from him, strangely comforted by a sight from home, however small.

"Honey," he batted his eyelashes mockingly at her, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Blossom rolled her eyes again. He was way too jocular. It had grated on her nerves back in high school, hell, it probably still did, but she was much too preoccupied with past regrets and thoughts of her sister to truly be irritated by him.

"Where's your little team?" he questioned casually, but it was in the way that he avoided her eye, the way he tugged on his red ponytail, that made her realize he knew about the fall out.

Blossom shrugged, "Where's yours?"

Brick stiffened and returned the nonchalant shrug, "The hell, if I know."

Now that took Blossom by surprise. She had assumed that they were a packaged deal, but then again, the Powerpuff Girls were once a packaged deal too.

They sat in silence as the rain pattered against the window panes. The girl at the register took the chance to call her boyfriend on her cell. Her giggles rang through the empty café, completely and utterly inappropriate in the tangible despair.

"Sucks, doesn't it sugar?"

Blossom knew what he was talking about. She didn't know why he had separated from his brothers, but she knew exactly what it was that sucked.

"Yeah, and quit it with the stupid pet names."

"Never, angel-face, I want people to know about our time transcending love."

Blossom snorted and Brick cracked a cheeky grin.

"What are you working as?"

Brick took another sip of his coffee, relishing it, "Underground Boss, dabble a little in the black market, it's a pretty lucrative enterprise sweetheart, especially when giant corporations are involved. I've got a pretty sweet deal and since they're all scared crapless of me, well, I get to pretty much do what I want."

"You are such a scumbag."

"Honey, that's been established."

The silence that resumed wasn't awkward. They were far too preoccupied to give any attention to small social graces.

"What do you say we go find them?"

Blossom was surprised by his question. It wasn't as though she hadn't considered it before. She'd always secretly dreamed of flying out and tearing the country upside down in the search for her sisters, but it had never seemed really plausible. Even with her superpowers, it seemed impossible to find two special girls in a sea of billions.

"Come on, Pink," Brick wheedled, "We could make a road trip of it, I'm sure you could take a month off for vacation."

With the amount of overtime Blossom worked, she could have afforded to take a year off but that was beside the point.

A road trip? With a criminal?

Even if Blossom wasn't exceptionally intelligent, that did not seem to be the most appealing of ideas.

"Why on _earth_ would I even get inside a car with you?"

Brick smirked and she knew that an obnoxious retort was coming her way.

"Because you know that two heads are better than one, and, come on pink, what better partner to help you find a group of superpowered brats? Me and your sisters, we're practically _connected_."

He always seemed to have an obnoxiously simple reason for everything and that still grated on her nerves. She scoffed.

"Whatever, it's not like you would possibly help me out anyway."

Brick shrugged, "That's true, but if I get something in return, eh, you're not so bad, not that you're not annoying, I mean, honestly, how many times do I have to beat the shit out of you for you to get that I'm the better leader?"

Blossom's jaw dropped. She spluttered and he sniggered.

"You are such an arrogant asshole," she snarled.

Brick leaned back in his seat, and threw his cup at the garbage can. Even though it was a good distance away, it landed perfectly in the center of the trash heap.

"There's a reason for everything, sugar."

He stood up abruptly, before she could respond. He fished into the pocket of his dress pants and pulled out a business card.

"Don't make your decision now, it's a business proposition, call me tomorrow."

And with a salute, he left her sitting at the table, clutching his business card and hoping for the first time in a long time.

-O-O-O-

Buttercup pulled the dumbbell close to her body. Her rapid speed and numerous repetitions had a few men staring brazenly, their mouths wide open. Some had their eyes narrowed in envy; others shook their heads in disbelief. In the gym, their kingdom and their domain, they were being bested by a tiny girl, in a dark green sports bra and black shorts.

It took her mind off things, now that she'd been reduced from keeping her identity a secret. She just didn't have the heart to fight crime without her sisters. Oh, she still kicked ass, make no mistake about it, but she was forced to be cautious with her powers. One well aimed blast to the face and she'd be behind bars.

She was playing professional basketball now, not because it was her favorite sport, but because they offered the most money. She played under an alias , because she wouldn't be able to stand it if Blossom or Bubbles saw her playing basketball while they were off changing lives or whatever it was they had decided to do when they had parted ways.

Buttercup felt the lump in her throat and angrily choked it down. It wasn't as though she needed them and it wasn't as though they were moping around about her. Everyone was off doing what they wanted to do and they were happier because of it. Three superpowered girls would eventually butt heads so badly that their relationship would be unsalvageable. That was what had happened with them, simple as that.

"Yo."

Buttercup looked up into the mirror vaguely and promptly dropped the dumbbell on her foot. She howled, not from pain but shock and whirled around to face Butch, on his knees, laughing into the mats.

"Butch?"

Butch, still too incapacitated to formulate a proper affirmation, continued to laugh into the mat. Buttercup, forgetting that she was in a room full of spectators, kicked him in the gut, sending him flying into a mirror, shattering it and causing many a buff man to run screaming towards the doors.

"Fuck," Buttercup swore. There went her cover, it wasn't likely that the guys in the gym would just think that she was some really strong chick.

Butch groaned, slowly rose to his feet, and wiped the mirror shards off of his dress shirt, "Shit Buttercup, what the fuck did I do?"

Buttercup snarled and immediately marched up to him, grabbing him by his loosened tie.

"What's the big idea taking me by surprise like that? You know I don't take well to fucking surprises and seeing you after two years of not seeing anyone? Yeah, big, fucking surprise."

"Easy, on the suit supergirl," Brick wrenched himself from Buttercup's vice like grip, "I've just got a simple proposition for you."

-O-O-O-

"Miss Utonium," the small brunette girl tugged on Bubbles's skirt, "Tommy keeps pulling my hair."

Bubbles Utonium, first grade teacher, patted the small girl on the head, "I'll talk to Tommy, Amy, we'll see why he's pulling your hair."

Tommy King reminded Bubbles of a bizarre cross between Mitch and Princess, and it was really a terrible combination.

"Tommy," Bubbles knelt down so that she was at eye level with her most troublesome pupil. He stared back up at her solemnly.

"Yes Miss Utonium?"

He had the art of feigned innocence mastered to a t.

"Why do you keep pulling Amy's hair?"

Tommy flushed, and this time Bubbles knew it wasn't an act, "Because she makes me feel funny and her hair is a stupid color, like mud."

Bubbles couldn't stop a small smile, and it took a good amount of self control to stifle her 'aww'.

"Tommy,"

"Yes Miss Utonium?"

"You have to be nice to Amy."

"Ok"

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Bubbles nodded in satisfaction, and straightened up. She clapped her hands to signal for the children's attention, but all of them seemed to be staring at something behind her. She heard the clear, sharp notes of an acoustic guitar.

Bubbles turned around, to the sight of Boomer strumming a guitar.

"Is that teacher's boyfriend?" Eleanor Schim whispered.

Boomer stopped his strumming, and looked at her so intensely that Bubbles had a bit of trouble breathing.

"Bubbles…"

* * *

A/N: A new PPG story even though A Crack in the Sidewalk hasn't been updated in a million years, yes I know. This little plot bunny, however, has been with me for quite some time now and it's outlined and everything. It should be about 8 chapters long, maybe a little longer. No more than 10. There is a reason all of them met up with each other, and it's not for the purpose of clichés, all will be revealed in due time my wonderful readers :-)

As this is a new story I want your opinions! Please feel free to leave questions, critiques, reviews as they all make my day and encourage me to pop out them chapters faster.

Much Love,

Nanaho-Hime


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1: So hot

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. ever.

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Buttercup stared at the figure before her, the grossest skepticism twisting her hardened features.

"That is complete and utter bullshit."

Butch, unfazed, tore another bite out of his raspberry scone. With his mouth full of scone-disgusting mongrel-he sagely replied, "I assure you that I am one hundred percent serious."

Buttercup stared at him, unconvinced. The story he'd told her would have been difficult to believe even if she hadn't been constantly suspicious. However, Butch showed none of the usual signs of lying. His eyes were focused and his expression was deadpanned; he did not look away from her scrutinizing gaze. His shoulders were relaxed and he was leaning back in his seat as though he hadn't a single care in the world.

The coffee shop he had led her to, following their impromptu brawl at the gym was dark inside. The booth he'd chosen to occupy was in the far corner of the shop, away from prying eyes. The ID card he'd presented to prove his identity was sitting innocuously in the space between them; his leery grin flashing rebelliously up at her from the laminated piece of plastic.

"You're telling me," Buttercup began slowly, uncertainly, "that you work for the FBI now."

"Yup."

"And you've been assigned to find the Powerpuff Girls, for a matter concerning national defense."

"Basically."

"This makes no sense!" Buttercup exploded with an infuriated whisper, "Why would you, of all people, work for the FBI. Why would the government trust you?"

At that, Butch rolled up the sleeve of his white dress shirt. On his wrist was a thin band of silver. In the center was a small dot of green light.

"I got caught trying to swipe an old painting, in from France," his tone was completely bored. It didn't go unnoticed by Buttercup that his voice was infinitely bitter. "They gave me a choice, either prison for a bajillion years or complete a mission for them and they'd let me off scot-free."

"This little device," he stroked the band of metal, disgust on his face, "monitors my vitals. If I get to out of control, this little bitch injects a strong tranquilizer into my system."

He'd expected her to laugh at him, for being collared and controlled like a dog. So he was surprised by the scowl on her face.

"Wait, we're not animals," she was so angry the use of the term _we_ went unnoticed. Her green eyes flashed, "They're not going to put that thing on me if I agree to help you?"

Butch shrugged disinterestedly, "I can't say for sure, though I don't think so, you didn't try to steal a priceless painting right from under their noses."

Finishing up his scone, Butch reached into his pocket to pull out a slim cell phone. Scrolling through his text messages he continued to question her.

"Where are your sisters by the way?"

Buttercup averted her eyes, "Beats me."

Butch looked up from the screen, eyebrows furrowed and frown in place.

"Well that sucks," he blew out an agitated breath. Returning to his cell, Brick punched in a number and brought the phone to his ear.

"My superior," he mouthed when Buttercup shot him an inquisitive look. He turned his attention back to the phone,"Hey, bastard."

Buttercup rolled her eyes. Of course he'd refer to his superior with utter flippancy and disrespect.

"I found one of them. The green one. Yeah, the psychotic one. Problem though, she doesn't know where her sisters are. Think the two of us are enough? What do you mean you were hoping for the smart one?"

Buttercup could feel her infamous temper bubbling to the surface.

"No seriously, just try us. Look, I've already got one of them. It'd be a waste of time to keep looking for the other two. Just tell me what you need us to do."

Butch paused as the man on the other line explained something, his look of disbelief and outrage growing with each passing second.

"Is this a joke? I could have done this on my own. Seriously. Yeah, we'll get it done. Of course I convinced her. I don't know why you don't have any faith in me."

It was at this point that Buttercup finally decided she had had enough of this nonsense. Jumping up abruptly, she punched Butch in the face, making sure to control her strength. Although she knew it would have no effect on him, it help to assuage her boiling temper. She stalked away from the booth with her head held high and a snarl on her face.

"Hold on. I'll get back to you."

She felt a vindictive pleasure when she heard him crash into a table. Cursing under his breath he made use of his super speed in order to cut her off, causing a scene in the process. The woman at the counter was gaping unabashedly while some kid with a cupcake was pointing excitedly, "Mom! It's the Flash!"

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" he was angry now, the calm façade finally exhausted.

Buttercup's eyes narrowed.

"Why the hell should I do this?" she demanded, hands on her hips, "This might be your parole project, but there's certainly nothing in it for me and I refuse to be roped into some ridiculous government project."

With her exclamation, it was as though a light bulb had flashed on in Butch's head. His smile was disturbingly devious and Buttercup blanched at the sight of it. Her shoulders tensed involuntarily as she scowled up at him.

"What's in it for you?" he repeated silkily, relaxing into his 'couldn't give a damn' posture, "Don't you think I know you Buttercup?"

"You don't know me at all!" she whispered fiercely, eyeing the other coffee shop patrons nervously. Many were staring at the spectacle with open-mouthed interest.

"Don't I?" Butch responded softly, "We're a lot alike Buttercup, we never did what we did because of ambition or ideology. We did what we did for the pure thrill of the _fight_."

Buttercup stiffened. He knew he had hit a nerve and the bloodlust on her face was subtle. It would have been unrecognizable if he hadn't been so familiar with it.

"That's right," he nodded knowingly, much to her chagrin, "How long has it been since you've _really_ punched someone in the face? Zapped them with a laser?"

Buttercup could feel her fingers curl into a fist

"Of course your goody two shoes ways wouldn't stand for the beating of innocent bystanders," he continued, smirk still in place, " but here's your chance to beat the shit out of villains once again. No more holding back."

He leaned in close to whisper in her ear, "You get to beat them until you actually feel _tired, _can you just imagine?"

The problem was she could imagine it. The familiar itch in her hands, the one she hadn't felt in years, was returning full force, so much so that she ached for a real fight. She could almost taste it.

Butch delighted in the sulky resignation evident in her expressive green eyes.

Victory was sweet.

O-O-O

In her sheer and utter panic Bubbles had relegated Boomer to the time out corner. To her surprise he complied quite readily and was sitting hunched over quietly on the too small stool.

She tried to continue with class as normally as possible despite the incessant giggling and endless questions on the nature of her and Boomer's relationship. After a few children requested Boomer to play something for them on guitar Boomer cheekily chose a funky version of the alphabet song. The children, excited, sang along with great, screaming, gusto. Bubbles could feel a terrible headache coming on.

She couldn't help but heave a sigh of relief when the final parent—Mrs. Miller—left with young Jeremy. When she felt that there was no one within earshot she turned to Boomer.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed in exasperation, "How did you even find me?"

His smile was goofy, his blue eyes teasing, "I just couldn't stay away, my love!"

"Oh cut the crap," Bubbles scoffed, nervous and flustered. Her breakup with Boomer, her senior year of high school had not been ugly per se. However, it had been horribly awkward and she had not really spoken to him since.

"In all honesty though," Boomer stood, stretching in a manner that was almost cat-like, "I'd prefer to keep my sources secret in order to maintain my mysterious musician charms."

Bubbles rolled her eyes. He'd always been a tad dramatic and overly whimsical. She was in no mood to fight with him. She was happy with her job and her anonymity and the thought that he could destroy that with just one word was terrifying.

"What do you want Boomer?" she sighed in resignation.

Boomer straightened up, putting his best puppy eyes forward, "I need your help."

Bubbles offered him a crooked half grin, impervious to the puppy eyes, "I figured as much."

"Yes," Boomer stumbled with his words, "well, it's kind of a big favor."

Bubbles sighed again. Truth be told, she'd enjoyed her relationship with Boomer. It was the only romance that still lingered in the back on her mind. He had been kind to her and, although it had ended anticlimactically she was a sentimental person by nature and she still had a soft spot for the man in front of her.

"As long as it's not illegal, I'll do my best."

His blue eyes immediately tore away from her scrutinizing gaze. Guilty.

"About that…"

Bubbles eyes narrowed.

"No Boomer."

"You haven't even heard me out!" he protested weakly, guilt still evident on his face. He was always the worst at hiding his emotions.

"No Boomer." She repeated firmly, collecting her things from her desk. She'd deemed the conversation was over.

"I need you to hide me, Bubbles!" Boomer strode over to the desk, blocking her path.

"What did you do?" she hissed, hugging her purse to her chest, an exasperated frown on her face.

"I tried to steal something," he was being purposefully vague, "but I got caught. I was able to get away, but they know what I look like and they're looking for me. I've got no where to go."

"Boomer!" she exclaimed in reproach.

"Please Bubbles," he begged, imploring her with his soft blue eyes.

Bubbles was unyielding. Despite the affection she still harbored for him, her resolve was firm and she refused to compromise her beliefs.

Boomer sighed, "I didn't want to do this Bubbles but you leave me with no choice."

He brought himself to his full height. He was a good foot and a half taller than the small girl, so his looming position was actually quite imposing. Bubbles, however, refused to be intimidated and matched his stance, puffing herself up to her full height and staring right into his eyes.

"If you don't hide me out," he began, faltering slightly at the steel in her expression, "I will tell everyone in this town who you really are."

Bubbles looked down and mentally cursed him viciously. She should have known he wouldn't be above blackmail.

When she looked up he was smiling almost apologetically. She scowled and pushed past him.

"Are you coming or not?" she practically barked, flipping off the lights as she headed out the door.

Without a word, Boomer followed her.

"So now that you've gotten your way," Bubbles spoke up acidly as they headed to the faculty parking lot, "How did you find me?"

Boomer smiled cheekily and whipped a crumpled sheet of graying paper from his pocket. Bubbles grumpily snatched it from his hand and unfolded it. It was an article from last week's newspaper, discussing her award for winning teacher of the year for the entire state. Her own face was beaming up prettily.

"I knew you'd be a good teacher," Boomer remarked softly, taking the article and shoving it back in his pocket.

She found it a little strange, that he kept the article in his pocket of all places but he continued with a whisper, "besides, who'd suspect a pretty grade school teacher of harboring convicted criminals."

She squealed in anger and punched him. Her ire grew when he merely laughed.

"It's got to suck, masking you powers like that."

"Listen you," she jabbed a finger at his chest as she unlocked her car door, "If your existence makes my life in any way uncomfortable I will send your skinny ass to the police without batting an eyelash."

Boomer blinked and raised his hand solemnly.

"I promise you won't even know I'm there."

O-O-O

Blossom Utonium had been tossing and turning in her bed for a good few hours since she'd returned from work late that night. Sleep was elusive and Brick's offer kept spinning in her head.

"My brain hates me," Blossom groaned as she kicked off a blanket. Laying flat on her back, she stared at her ceiling bleakly, memories she'd long buried resurfacing once again.

She remembered the day Buttercup ran into the house screaming about making the varsity basketball team as though she were surprised. She remembered the day Bubbles made the lead in the school musical and how the remaining sisters had gone to see every single showing with Buttercup grumbling but _there_ despite her hatred of show tunes. She remembered their sixteenth birthday when her sisters had thrown her a surprise party because she'd been stressed.

When she thought about it, she had probably missed out on so much. She missed out on graduations and shared birthdays. She may have even missed out on the births of nieces and nephews and it was all because she was too damn _stubborn_.

As she lay there, regretting, the sound of her doorbell rudely broke through her thoughts. Blinking, she sat up in bed, wondering who on earth could be harassing her at four in the morning. The person at the door was either stupid or incredibly rude because the button was ringing over and over again, incessantly. Fearing her neighbors would wake up she sprinted to her living room and flung open the door. Standing there with his trademark, insufferable smirk was Brick.

Blossom gaped. Surely he was joking.

"I've decided," he spoke airily, sidestepping her and entering the apartment, "that you don't have a choice in the matter."

Blossom stood there, making outraged noises with her mouth, but failing to form a coherent sentence.

Brick disdainfully eyed her pink nightshirt, complete with smiling clouds.

"How old are you, seriously?"

His insult seemed to shake her out of her shock.

"Brick," she whispered, infuriated, "Get _out_."

"You need to pack quickly," he remarked, completely ignoring her, "I'm parked illegally and I'm not really in the mood for dilly dallying."

"Brick," she repeated, motioning at her door furiously, "Get **_out_**."

He headed down the hall, toward her room, in complete disregard of her words. Unsure of what to do, Blossom closed her door and followed him into her room where she found him rummaging through her underwear drawer, throwing bras and panties on her bed haphazardly.

"This has got to be the most unsexy underwear ever," Brick deadpanned holding up a plain white bra.

"Brick!" she squeaked, grabbing for her bra. He let it go easily but the damage was done and she was blushing a brilliant shade of red that clashed horribly with her hair.

He had the audacity to laugh. Fuming, she physically shoved him out of the room and slammed the door in a rare display of immaturity. Turning to face the mess he'd created on her bed, she began organizing her underwear into what she would and wouldn't be taking with her.

The truth was, she wanted to go. And this was the perfect way to force her into doing what she was too scared to do. Grabbing her pink suitcase, she began throwing the most random things in. It was almost as though she was in a trance. She ignored Brick whenever he decided to shout obnoxious comments at her door. When she was satisfied that she had enough _stuff_ to hold her over, she grabbed her road trip essential, an over large pair of white rimmed sunglasses and put them on. She changed into a pair of black sweatpants and a long-sleeved pink t-shirt, sweeping her hair into a loose bun at the top of her head.

When she stepped out of her room, Brick snorted.

"I like the sunglasses Pink, seriously."

She ignored him and headed out the door. She was surprised when he gently took the suitcase from out of her hand and led her down the stairs. At the sight of his red Ferrari she stopped, gaping. He smirked.

"Nice isn't it?"

She composed herself.

"I guess."

When he'd put her suitcase in the trunk and stepped into the driver's seat next to her, he turned to face her.

"Are you ready?"

She nodded numbly and it was only after they passed the sign indicating that they were leaving the city limits that she realized what it was she had agreed to.

_Oh hell._

* * *

A/N: SO. I'm not dead, really. And neither is this little fic. Honestly, I have no idea if anyone is still reading this story, but I hope those who are reading are enjoying.

Anyway, reviews would be cool : - ) really.


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